Wolf's Den
by Toasleep
Summary: In a world where social status and acceptance is based on your spirit animal, Molly Hooper finds herself being an outcast. Having no mark to indicate her spirit animal, Molly learns how to be invisible and fade into the furthest parts of other people thoughts. That is until a certain consulting detective wonders into her lab one day and proceeds to flip her world upside down.
1. Chapter 1

When Molly was younger she always enjoyed the lectures her father gave to his family about the branched system of the spirit claim. The laws that were in place to keep marriage within their own clans unless of course financial gain, or to qual any disagreements between clan leaders. She acknowledged at the time she was to young to worry over such matters, nor was she of age to be marked. So the branched system of today's world weighed very little on her mind. Her parents where rat spirits that crawled up the ladders of the system using their intelligence and ability to find loopholes. Although not highly revered, they where admired for their cunning and resourceful nature. Like most families they assumed she would follow suit, and be claimed as a rat spirit to join or start her own family as part of their clan. As such her siblings and herself were raised to learn their clans way of life and social survival. She witnessed how her parents behaved in public and mimicked them with perfect poise. The polite bowes to the higher animal clans, or the slight nod of the head to suggest a higher status to a lower clan. The reluctant acknowledgement of clans with no status and the sneers directed to the unfortunate few with no claim to any clan. The ones that had not a stitch of ink to display their animal spirit could not be claimed and so they were the outcast.

At the age of 12 she was the youngest in her class to graduate by 5 years which resulted in her being without friends, and to her fathers displeasure mark less. Spirits were often passed on from generation to generation, therefor, Molly would most likely be a rat. However rare it might be, certain individuals could be marked with a different spirit animal when their true nature set in. One day in her animal spirit studies she was required to learn the critical key points of how human nature was engraved in a child, and how this could affect their claiming. He stormed into her classroom with a total prepared speech. She discovered in his heated speech on human nature that the children that were raised in their clans environment, instilled their beliefs and this helped carve a persons true nature. He lectured how some scientist were at odds with each other over the subject of Nature vs. Nurture and how this influenced our claiming. General they leaned into the belief of nurturing since spirit animals generally where passed on from the nurturing nature of each clan. Others argued that it was programmed into our genes and was proven by individuals that changed clans. Others just agreed on both because they had no time with trivial matters.

As she grew older and left for college and then to medical school, she obtained a few friends along the way but lost most of them when they learned she was not claimed. How could a crow or another rat clan member associate with a claim less? They couldn't! So the phone calls ceased , the offers to hang out stopped, and eventually even the passing greetings became avoided eye contact . It was common knowledge that if you were not inked with your spirit animal by the age of 18 the possibilities of being marked was numerically low, and she was turning 21. She left the clan shortly after her parents death and when her siblings broke off to start their own families within the clan. She decided to drop her social rat clan facade and learned to become invisible in any room she was in. To become that person that others didn't see unless they needed to dodge her and sometimes they didn't even manage that. Again she was the youngest to graduate from her class and to avoid public reticule on graduation day, conveniently flunked her mid-term final to drop from the top of her class. It would not be good to gain anymore attention for her grades beyond her teachers. So she graduated below the top percent of her class and avoided the stage to fade once more into the mass of her graduating class.

Finishing her internship and obtaining a job at St Bartholomew's Hospital hospital without gaining attention was a little more difficult than she had anticipated. She was not overly attractive but she did turn a few heads and gained the attention of a few alphas in the hospital. One was a doctor on the third floor that often snuck around with nurses and sometimes even other doctors. When she found out he was a alpha of a snake clan she was not to overly surprised. Another was a ophthalmologist and to her amusement the eldest son of the alpha of a hawk clan. On another note, she also found it amusing that if she had been marked as a rat that both the animals they had been marked as, loved to eat rats. Even is she had been marked she could not be claimed by either one of their clans if she was indeed a rat. She would have not had a high enough social status nor could they financially benefit from her to get a sign off from the government to allow such a union. So desperate times called for desperate measures on her part. She began to wear baggy clothes and flower printed apparel, wore her hair up in chaotic ponytails and buns. Removed all feminine aspects of herself such as makeup and jewelry. She became the youngest spinster of St Barts and was happily surrounded by people that could not mock or disparage her. The dead was a blessing to her however morbid in her head as it sounded, until one day a overly attractive and equally dangerous man sauntered into her haven and refused to leave.


	2. Chapter 2

At the ripe young age of birth, the Holmes knew their son was a special little gift. He never screamed, he never kept them up, but they would never go so far as to describe him as a happy baby boy. Instead Sherlock was always watching people around him, or examining his environment when he was being walked or driven in a car. He later developed a deep fondness for his brother Mycroft to his parents confusion. He seemed to become bored with everyone in a room within 5 minutes and then would constantly look for Mycroft if he was not in his line of sight. If he could not find his brother he would develop a deep scowl on his face and refuse to eat for hours. His mother became so desperate to keep this from continuing that she withdrew Mycroft from his school and had him home schooled. It worked in Sherlocks favor but Mycroft became slowly resentful that he had to leave his friends so he could help take care of his baby brother. Mycroft did understand to a degree because his family where long decedents of wolf spirits, and Sherlock was clearly following suit being a clingy baby pup. The only alarming sign of this was the fact that Sherlock was not bonding to his father that was the head of the house, but to Mycroft. Their father was not the alpha of the clan they where in, but he did hold substantial power.

As Sherlock became older it became increasingly evident that he was a very gifted child and needed constant supervision. The only problem with the constant supervision was the fact he constantly escaped his supervisor. When he was 5, his parents had to search for him for 3 hours before they finally resorted to asking Mycroft to call for him. Not a minute after his name was called Sherlock appeared behind them with a smile directed to Mycroft as if asking for approval. Mycroft sneered at him and stormed off to continue his studies, leaving Sherlock hurt by his blatant dismissal. Sherlock slowly picked himself back up and tried again, after all people could describe him with many words, but amenable would never grace that list. To Mycroft's displeasure, Sherlock began to shadow his brother, following him like he was some prey to be hunted. Every time his plans were ruined when Mycroft slipped away after disappearing behind a corner, or seemingly vanish after entering a vacant room of their house. It infuriated him to no end that he could never win against his brother even though it was his 'stalking' game that he invented! One day he started his game once more but he could not find Mycroft anywhere. His parents couldn't even help saying he had been gone since after breakfast. As the setting sun began to paint it's brilliant art across the sky, Mycroft had appeared to sit alongside Sherlock with a triumphant smirk on his face. After that day he was taken in under his brother's wing to properly learn to become a wolf clan member.

Mycroft taught him, what he would latter call the art of deduction, was a simple break down of the ability to conclude how a person spent their days by observing when others simple saw. Mycroft had decided to test his precious pup of a brother by sending in a maid he deducted within 62 seconds of this new game he was creating. Sherlock knew as soon as she walked in with a plastered smile that she was already humiliated by his dear brother so he spared her. Simple noted the nose surgery had minimal scaring, her right foot slanted lightly to the right to indicate a dislocation that was not medical treated, and the scar the started above the right eye and disappeared underneath her attempt of a distracting hair line. She walked with a favor to her left leg, lowered to the table with her left leg, and ate with her left hand even though she clearly favored her right and tradition even lectured the right. Clear indications she was a mistress under another clan or was abused in her own. Sherlock was marked as a fellow wolf at the mere age of 9, so at 12 he should have had knowledge of any transgressions against a fellow wolf. 197 seconds after she sat down he should have been throwing his food at Mycroft instead of giving it to her.

As years passed the clan soon toke notice of the brothers, their ability to work as one and solve problems faster and more efficient then any of the upper hierarchy. They had approached them and offered the two positions within the wolf clan hierarchy, skipping years ahead of their piers. This played in favor to Mycroft's future plans but Sherlock was livid. He had no desire to become the head of a house or region, let alone the possibility to become alpha of the clans territory. Mycroft had taught him to study his environment, to gather all evidence, to be patient, to circle his prey, and lure them out. Identify his prey before they had the chance to call themselves the predictor. Simply hunt as they were raised to do, but Myroft had left him to become the alpha of the whole system. He declined the job and later became the only consulting detective in the world. He was in fact the only wolf that declined a high status position to remain in lower London even though he had the money. He couldn't argue completely against his brothers decision to control the whole of Britain's colonies and later influence the rest of the world's. Mycroft was a wolf and could predict any advance tactics of one clan on another, and even if it was a slow inside job it would soon turn Mycroft's head. This is what had Sherlock showing up at 7 o'clock in the morning at the Barts morgue on a sleep in day after solving another case but his dear brother did come a howling so off to work for the Mycroft government.


	3. Chapter 3

I forgot to add disclaimers to the first two chapters but here it is now. I do not own Sherlock or any characters. Also a few notes at the end of this one.

Molly was to busy singing in her head 'Major Tom' to notice there was someone else in her tin can... She cursed the song for distracting her to the point where she hadn't heard the morgue door open or close, or the heavy foot steps if his height was any indication of his weight. When she looked into his eyes, her traitorous mind continued the lyrics as a passing thought at how remarkably earthly blue they were. She slowly backed away and willed her eyes to look at anything other than the strong, confident, and dominant man in her lab. His prescience overwhelmed her, but she fought back the urge to show submission as she was raised to do. She was aware she could not feel his energy but knew from experience that this man would most definitely have some rolling off him in waves, demanding a display of her neck. Slowly she was gathering the courage to look back at him while mentally preparing herself to confront him about barging into her work space. The urge to submit was making it difficult for her to even conjure up an image of her speaking to him, let alone making eye contact. Letting a shaky breath escape her body, she turned her sights back on the gentlemen prepared to address him but immediately froze in horror.

He had managed to move across the room once more without even making a sound, and she positive this was the case with him because her body's instincts screamed at her to focus all her senses on him. Even though she had refused to look at him moments before, her hearing had been on high alert. Besides the hammering of her own heart, there was no other sound that her brain registered. 'This is not good, this is really not good,' was the only thing her brain was able to process and so it kept repeating in her head like a broken record player. At least her brain was functioning, elementary level, but functioning. Now if it would be so kind and speed up to a more advanced level so it could register that she had been trying to escape to her office, that would be great.

When Sherlock entered the morgue to retrieve evidence from the body that his dear brother had sent him to examine, he didn't expect to find someone already doing just that. Rolling his eyes, he slowly approached the examining table and released a small amount of his spirit energy. It would call the attention to every animal spirit within a certain range of the user depending on how much you released. Sherlock never liked to use it for its intended purpose of forcing all the wolf omegas in the area to submit and the betas to focus their attention on him. He never had to really, his presence alone would earn him the bows and head tilts of submission that his spirit animal craved and demanded. So he always had a tight hold of his energy and even learned to pull some back to make him a little more unnoticeable in a room if he was working on a case. Wouldn't help his situation if he was unintentionally demanding attention.

Coming to a halt half way across the room, Sherlock frowned as the women in the room continued to ignore him. He was trying to be nice and let her know he was in the room to not frighten her because clearly she was deeply engrossed in her autopsy and she was ignoring him! Regardless of what she was marked as, her spirit animal would have called her attention to his rising energy level as soon as he released it. 'This is why I don't invest time in people and their silly emotions,' he bitterly thought as the good doctor continued with her work, 'or.. She doesn't feel my energy?' That must have been the answer for at that very second she lifted her head to roll her neck to release some tension but froze like she had been caught in the middle of stealing government secrets. After she had backed away from the table and jerked her head to the right to stare at a speck of dirt for all he cared, he maneuvered himself to the front of the table to begin his 'job.' He watched as the look of shock slowly melt to a look of completely horror when she turned her head to face him again. The folder labeled 'slightly interesting' was the only file that made sense for him to store her in for the time being. He did have a body to examine and while her brain slowly digested what had just happened, he could work by himself and not worry about some idiot hovering over the table with him.

Molly couldn't move nor could look away from the man that circled HER examining table, HER corpse, doing HER job, and he hadn't even bothered to tell HER why! He didn't work there, at least she thought he didn't. 'No... He doesn't work here,' her brain finally supplied after watching him remove a mini sized magnifying glass from his pocket to examine behind his ear and then his hair. 'Nope, defiantly doesn't work here at the hospital.' She continued to watch him slowly move around the body on the table before a thought accord to her. "Umm.. Sir? So-rry I umm.. Well I th thought you sh-should know that he he was a diabetic," blurted out of her mouth as if the letters where tripping over each other attempting to pass off as words. When he raised his head up to look at her, his eyebrows slowly started to knit together until her sentence finally passed her lips. Molly froze again after she thanked the spirits above that she finally finished her humiliating attempt of presenting this fact to him in hopes that it would answer his silent question, 'how?'

When she had first opened her mouth to speak, he vigorously fought down the groan of annoyance he felt creeping up his throat, and even managed to not roll his eyes over her stammering. He was used to omegas stammering or even choking on their words when talking to him,epically the females, but had not the time or patience to deal with it right now. Instead he lifted his gaze to try to silence her with a glare but when she started to make hand gestures to her pancreas he reframed to let her finish her sentence. Even if it did take up to much of his time. After she finished some of the pieces fell into place and once again he fought the urge to roll his eyes but not at the now 'interesting' pathologist. No she had managed to do what the Scotland Yard had failed to do for many years, be useful. The fact that his case report failed to mention this tidbit suggested they had no knowledge of what killed the man. But he did and this was the only reason he found himself here in the first place. Surely Mycroft had the man's medical files and knew he was a diabetic, so why did this warrant a visit from him? Mycroft could not be so blind as to not see how the poison was administered, so now the question was why? But before he snatches that tempting carrot from the string hovering above his head, he needed to find out what to do with the one already in his hand.

"Why would you mention that?", he asked as his eyes searched for any sign that her body would give away if she didn't know why she had mentioned it. Maybe she was nervous and was just trying to make conversation. He found humans to do that often when they found themselves in uncomfortable situations. His question startled her out of her stupor and she once again contemplated running straight for her office but something in the way he was looking at her stalled her retreat. Molly felt his eyes literally picking her apart like she was some machine and he was looking for a faulty piece. "He.. He was poisoned and well I.. I thought you mi-might be looking for how..", she chocked out and clamped her mouth shut when his eyes increased slightly in size as if he was surprised.

And he was surprised. From the look of the lab she had not started any blood work on him, or begin the autopsy. For what he could tell she had only just finished opening his chest when he had walked in and it wasn't in his report. His cause of death was ruled unknown at the scene so had did she know? Composing himself once more he faced her completely and began testing her again with his energy. He was releasing just enough to make any omega in the room submit immediately and any female beta to bow. "Why would you say he was poisoned... Molly?" At the use of her name she could feel her legs start to become weak. 'So not good,' began once more like a motto in her head as she struggled to answer him. "Well I-If you look at his organs.. Umm ricin if Iha-ad to guess... How.. How do you know my name?" He lifted one of his arms to leisurely point to her name tag as he regarded her answer. 'Interesting indeed,' he thought as he continued to observe her and call back the energy his spirit animal had been waving around like a spoiled pup that was trying to get attention. He could feel the urge to smirk at the rare treat he stumbled upon but would eagerly keep a grasp on it if it continued to entertain him. When he noticed the blush form across her face he couldn't hold back the smirk anymore and heard the gasp that escape the little pathologist. She could recognize ricin poisoning but couldn't remember she had a name tag on. Gracing her with a rare entertained smile, he spun on his heels and left the room. A mark less human in a lab surrounded by shinny toys? He might have just found himself a new den.

*****Notes*****

Ok so I felt like I needed to give a little information on the whole hierarchy system in my story. Each clan has one alpha that have multiple betas that are second in command. Alphas of each clan can be either male of female depending on spirit animals. Like how female hyenas run a pack, so the alpha and beta would be a female in the story. Betas control territories and houses within the clan while omegas are everyone else. Maid, bus driver, etc. Betas are only submissive to alphas and betas above their status. Hope this helps a little. Message me if i am not making it all clear.


	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock focused his eyes on a small weak spot on a cabinet across the room, while he zoned his sense of touch to the smooth feel of his violin resting under his chin, allowing his index finger to run down each string a certain length before tentatively plucking it, exciting his sense of hearing. Closing his eyes after the tone drifted away, he inhaled deeply and allowed his brain to categorize everything that he just experienced. The crack in the wall indicated a leak in the upstairs apartment that needed to be fixed under his watch. While he checked each string he noted one was getting worn, further proven by his hearing. A bloody note was off, faulty string he cursed, but picked up his bow to perform a horrid rendition of any Heifetz and Jack Benny. Jack Benny was in reality, an exceptional violinist, but performed during a time that needed smiles. His sense of smell noted that Mrs. Hudson had a gentlemen caller for dinner.

After he preformed his daily sense exercise, he decided to focus on why his brother Mycroft was pulling up to his flat. Apparently Mycroft was hesitant because the car was slow to approach, so with a side smirk Sherlock waited in his chair for the invasion to begin. Luckily at the time Sherlock didn't have any friends to add to a threaten column. Both brothers avoided friends or packs, it just made more sense to only trust blood even though that wasn't even in writing. It was very unusual for his brother to approach him willingly, because they both possessed alpha spirits. Any visit between the two was like a show of power that had people cowering in a corner or running away. Sherlock however usually gave up simply because he felt that not to doing so was negligence on his part. Whatever his brother was forcing himself to bring to him must hold some failure, and he might be able to hold over his head later.

The request to visit the morgue of St Barts was unexpected but came with a gift wrapped like a Christmas present that he himself never partook in, but was willing to receive now. Stepping outside the building he glanced to the corner as the ever so vigilant CCTV camera focused on him as he lit a cigarette. Sherlock simply tilted his head to the side of acknowledgment and signaled for a taxi. Whatever Mycroft saw in her while simply observing the cameras, Sherlock had felt first hand. Of course Mycroft sent him to do his leg work but she was unique some how, but as a unmarked it was hard to predict how at the time.. Like humans liked to throw around, only time will tell.

Molly was thrown off by the quick departure but relaxed immediately when she heard the sound of the morgue doors closing. 'Well at least he signaled his leave this time...' She thought but once again felt fear creep into her bones. He knew she didn't hear him come in so he willingly made noise to signal to her he left. He studied her with a confronted look when she had first looked upon him but it slipped to a look of slit confusion, then a look of complete astonishment. He was confused and amazed at her intelligence but the fear she felt now was due to the smirk on his face as he left. Did he know? Would he tell? Molly scrambled to finish her work before confirming her hypothesis, it was ricin poisoning. She wrote her report up and finished her paper work in record time even though she spent every other 30 seconds to glance at the doors but no one came.

Tripping over her own shoes as she made her way outside she felt once again 'the eye'. Molly called it that simply because she felt she was being watched but could never prove it without sounding crazy. Expelling a shuddering breath, she shook her head to clear her mind of paranoid thoughts so she could focus on the way home. She need the distance to walk so she could think but dare not let any paranoia slip in. Disaster was already present so no need to add gasoline anywhere near the fire. He knew her name but she did not know his, nor did she stick around to find out if anyone knew him. Cursing under her breath she noticed the blasted black car that she seemed to see whenever she didn't take the tube home. 'Paranoia Molly girl.. It was a different black car, there are a lot of black fancy cars.. Yep different last week.' He seemed to know already what had killed the gentlemen but was surprised she knew. 'Maybe if he did his research he would know that I'm the youngest pathologist at Barts and didn't get that with connection..' She snorted loudly at the idea of anyone writing a recommendation for her and was embarrassed to gain the interests of a cat near her, but could only sigh at her luck. Molly never knew how she could tell at a glance what any human was marked as, she just knew. Over time her suspicions of a mark was only confirmed when a gossip girl or sometimes a boy spilled the beans. Now she trusted her instincts to tell her what she was dealing with, but the man the had rudely disturbed her haven... She had no warning.. She had retreated within herself because she had no idea what he was. That had never happened before so she didn't know how to conduct herself, but she did know he was a high alpha of something so she needed to let it go. He had what he wanted so let him continue his alpha way of life and she would continue her happy unmarked pathologist way of life.

*** note***

sorry for the short chapter but like I have informed some I am getting my computer fixed so I don't have to write this on my Ipad anymore and chapters can be longer. I just felt I needed to do something in the time being to pull some stuff together with a short chapter. Hope you all enjoy.


	5. Chapter 5

When Mycroft was born his parents found him to be most agreeable. He barely made a fuss about any situation and pleasantly slept through the night. He studied his environment in a most diligent nature but remained a little to passive for his age. Toys lost his interest after what his parents described as "dissecting". Then he moved on to the next fascinating object of 15 minutes. He started school fairly early at the request of himself, and blossomed to a full blown genius after a few years. Though he wasn't to social he did gain friends due to his manipulative personality. He could bend people to his wants or needs and extended this ability to his 'friends', to further benefit himself of course. Life was easy for him until his brother started to express his true nature at the young age of two!

Mycroft knew when Sherlock was born he would be another genius of the family but never predicted that he would become a problem in his life. He was only nine when his mother snatched him out of school to become a prisoner in his own house to the beck and call of his dear baby brother. He resented him at first and avoided him at all cost unless his mother requested him to be in his presence. As Sherlock grew older Mycroft soon realized why his brother was so determined to be in his presence and demanded approval. Mycroft was marked at 8 as a wolf earning the title as the youngest marked. It was already known to himself he would be an alpha one day and Sherlock knew it as well. He wanted the presence of an alpha to teach him the way of alphas.

When he games first started Mycroft thought them tedious and just wanted to study, so of course he showed disapproval towards him for disrupting his training. One morning when he was eating his breakfast entertaining his parents beliefs that he was listening an idea struck him. If he would go so far as to entertain his parents, what was stopping him from do the same to his brothers games? So that day he did just that. He stalked his brother all day ignoring the so called better judgment of his tutors. When his brother finally gave up he waited and approached to calmly sit beside his brother with a smirk. He decided then that he would teach his brother, after all it was so boring to be by himself all the time. Later in the years when the higher hierarchy approached both of them for positions he readily accepted but his brother refused. He was furious at Sherlock! They had been together for years and he refused to be with him further?! Shaking off the feeling of abandonment he quickly scaled the ladders of the system to gain the highest position with one thought. Sentiment was a weakness, a chemical defect and he did not need weakness in his position as the government of a nation.

Even though his brother moved on and became a "consulting detective", and Mycoft not caring had him watched 24/7, he still managed to demand his attention. In a foreign political meeting, Sherlock was arrested and needed to be released and charges dropped. Negotiating a peace treaty between two clans, Sherlock was being tortured by a international terrorist that his MI6 troops where already watching but Sherlock had to stick his noise into everything! He was pulled out of danger by Mycroft's 7 sec call to tell them to move in and extract him, but failed to compile enough evidence for a indictment so he ordered the hit. The terrorist would go after his sweet baby brother so Mycroft needed to dispose of the threat in advance naturally. His nerves where being fried and patience being tested daily. As his week stretched on and his brother once again finding himself into trouble, he was called to the attention by a certain soon to be a alpha clan leader that he requested information on a doctor that worked with him at his hospital. Apparently he did not know of her mark but she showed signs of high intelligence and standing in her clan. He was asking the governments permission to retrieve files on her and permission for a wedding permit if he needed one. Intrigued for reasons beyond his understanding he took on the task personally but failed to gain any information beyond her parents, the family's clan, her school records, and work records. There was no record that she registered with any clan, nor did they have anything on her status. Each potential member of a clan of gaining favor of the government was watched unless they lost their interest so if the gentlemen was correct in his belief that she was in high standing why did that not have all her records?

One day a week turned into two days a week, that eventually turned into three days a week. Mycroft learned by watching her that she was not marked but she had a certain pull to her like she had her own gravity field. Everything about her yanked his attention away from his work and was slowly causing problems. Eventually he did reject the good hearted doctors request of permission of union, but he could not stop studying each CCTV feed when she walked to and from work. Computer or phone, home or in a meeting, even in front of Sherlock. He was there to ask/tell him to look into a government matter. Right before he actually requested what he had originally came to request, he retracted the thought as the image was downloading on his phone. He wouldn't have to keep this up if he simply stirred his brother towards the black hole he found himself in. As he was made aware of recently there was a dead diplomate that was murdered and Scotland Yard was left with the case but his government knew who it was and where he was. He was probably already detained but none of them needed to know that. After a hour long battle of will, as predicted Sherlock looked away to play with the violin in his hands. "Sherlock I have a simple request of you today. There is a body in question at St. Barts, and I need you to go down to do your job as England's only consulting detective."

**** note ****

couldn't sleep, so one more and sorry if I butcher the grammar on my Ipad. Feel free to message me if I am loosing anyone.


	6. Chapter 6

Molly burst through the door of her flat and slammed it behind her with a loud cracking of wood under her force. She leaned against the door assessing her body's condition before turning quickly to the window to slowly pull her window curtains apart to allow her eyes to scan the road below her flat. No expensive black cars out front even though she saw at least one follower her home. It wasn't like the government killed the unmarked humans, that much she was fairly certain of, but even that failed to calm her. For extra credit she started a school project that focused on the statics of adolescent children in each clan becoming marked as their own. At first the project began simply to appease her curiosity if she would become a rat, and a higher grade on her final exam would make it worth it. Unexpectedly, the data from her research would creep into her thoughts at school and turned into a investigation into clan birth rates vs. clan claim rates. Even with the records of divergent, or "defectors", the numbers didn't seem to correlate. Which resulted the project becoming an obsession in her high school years. Her parents where both concerned and suspicious of her behavior after she had repeatedly returned late from library visits. It wasn't until a cop had graciously returned her home one night after 8 that her parents had revoked her after school privileges. Apparently Molly had over stepped certain boundaries when it came to their trust and understanding. She had revolted like any child would do but to no avail.

When her last friend Amanda had become marked leaving her alone, the impact of her grief compelled Molly to alter her tactics. She feigned indifference to family dinner discussions on the subject for her older brother by three years had been recently marked. Her mother always could drag the conversation back to Molly though. "I don't understand what is wrong with our dear Molly, my love. She is only 11 but the top of her class! Any clan would be envious to have her as one of their own, but it seems she is being picky," slurred her mother as the servants began to remove the evidence of the meal they had just indulged in. She feigned ignorance on the subject if it was brought up in any classroom lesson, that is until one day in world history class the subject was of World War II. WWII was the most revolting but interesting war in her opinion and of those she had plenty. When she had first heard about the long past world war, her brain refused to believe that one man could feel such animosity towards one group of individual's. Even managed to spread his voice across multiple countries building armies to fight for his cause to annihilate all the unmarked humans to clean up the earth. The teacher expressed that even if the war was a time ago, history is its own teacher and with luck she will teach us what not to repeat the past. 'Or just don't make the same mistakes again,' she thought as she absently chewed on her pen, 'Having a global war couldn't have been the most brilliant idea of how to exterminate them. To many bodies in the open and it will gain sympathy points from the highest of clan member when you gas a four year old girl being rocked to sleep by her mom. The mother wasn't marked but that did not give them the right to kill her for association.' Molly gasped and jumped of the park's statue to run home as a slightly paranoid thought crashed into her. It felt like a bucket of ice water had just been dumped on her and she was getting fainter by the second. What if right now the government was doing that very thing? The numbers didn't add up, if they were such filthy, useless creatures that didn't even have a higher positions than crushed roaches under their shoes... Could it happen again? Fear fueled the urge to continue so she devoted her school hours to her research, and her school work was studied in the convenience of her own home. In her Senior year her father came across her notes and in a blinding drunken rage burned it all in his study and topped it off with a whole bottle of alcohol while expressing to her to never look into the matter ever again. Molly had only wanted to see if there was a connection into children and their clans so she could be marked to make them proud of her, but stumbled upon a dangerous government matter. Noticing the underlining grief and worry in his threat, she rationally obeyed his demand and focused on college.

Molly let out a long held in breath and crept to fall face first in the cushions of her couch. It had been a few days since she had seen the mysterious Alpha but instead of being grateful it was tormenting her. She had caught a glimpse of the black car and nearly had a panic attack but as fast as it took her to blink it was gone. Even so her last three blocks to her salvation was over in half the time and no incidents. Molly was nearly a 100 percent sure that the gentlemen knew or knows by now that she is an unmarked, it isn't like the unmarked she came across were abused physically but mentally. She would watch them something and they reminded her of verbally abused puppies. Their heads where always lowered staring at the ground waiting for a lash out if the were caught looking at a marked. The jobs they held where low class jobs that didn't require eye contact or make communication. She felt lucky that with her disguise, she managed to obtain a good, profitable job. She didn't have a lot of friends but at least she had something to show for all the hard work she put into her schooling. Slowly piling herself off her couch she stood to sluggishly make her way to her shower. 'Fresh shower, normal clothes, tea, and boring tv IS work the doctor ordered.' When she finally emerged from her bedroom to put her kettle on for tea she found the shelf to be empty. Confused she checked another until she noticed it on the stove. She didn't start the tea had she? No she was to tired and needed a... A scream barely left her mouth before a long strong hand enclosed around it leavening only muffled screams that where taken care of by another hand resting on the base of her neck with a lite squeeze of warning and all she could do was freeze and nod her head as tears burned her eyes.

There was a few unmarked that held some power among themselves to try to represent them so a better life could be established. They hold the lowest seats in the hall and rarely have the number of votes to speak. Castin holds the highest positions in their rag tag group. He was young but very intelligent and resourceful. He knew of many unmarked that had been able to coexist with the marked, and though he would never give those names up he did strive for his people on this side of the fence to get a taste. But like all the other meetings before this one, he would not be given a chance to speak. He told them of the grave news and began to pack documents back up when suddenly he heard his name. At first he thought his head was playing a trick so he resumed. After the second time his eyes peeked up to see if they were playing a prank on him but to his utter amazement it was Mr. Mycroft Holmes calling for his attention. With as much grace as he could conjure, Castin walked towards Mr. Holmes weaving around chairs that people abandoned when they had stood for his presence. Finally reaching him, Castin lowered his eye to the floor with a bow to show him respect that he deserved. For Castin it felt like hours and he just wanted to go back to his table, but he could not disgrace himself with a retreat. Castin heard Mycroft move away from him before his voice filled the room, "That will be all this week. We will meet back here in a weeks time. Good day, ladies and gentlemen. Dismissed." His tone was measured and even and left the leaders little room for argument. Once the room was empty Mycroft sat across from the young unmarked boy, he was interesting on his own but he lacked what she had and he didn't know what that was. So he had to find out... "Castin, do you know a Molly Hopper?"


	7. Chapter 7

Castin's eyes widened as Mycroft's calculating eyes focused on him intently when her name left his mouth. As far as he was informed by his contacts she was still well hidden. Castin's main goal while occupying his seat on the council was to insure the unmarked humans in hiding was just that, hidden. They lived peaceful lives among the marked with no criticism or harassment, and if his contacts informed him of one in trouble he would be in the position to pull them out in time. Some supremacy groups could become a problem, even for the government, and once discovered they became a target. Castin sworn to stop the assaults and would keep his promise even if it meant lying to the British government, but on a slightly more important topic how did he know of Molly Hopper. Her family were apart of the rat clan but didn't hold power in the council, so he certainly never meet her family. She was under his protection but didn't even seemed to be aware of it, nor did it seem she needed it. She had a great talent of being unnoticed and even managed to know who she should avoid. The updates on her always seemed promising so did something happen to her? Could he risk her safety by asking him? Mycroft had never expressed a single negative view on unmarks and he didn't seem to mind that some graced his council table. Molly's smiling face flashed in his mind and he knew he could not put her at risk, even if Mycroft might be against the bill. But before Castin could get a word in into the conversation that was forced on him he was silenced by a stern glare.

Mycroft knew as soon as the mans eyes widened that he planned to lead him into falsehood and was none to pleased. He had first registered surprise in his body language but when fear started to manifest within the depths of his eyes, Mycroft knew he would be willing to lie to the devil himself to protect her. One more item to add to the every growing list of the 'How interesting can Molly Hooper be?' He had well be informed of Castin's role in the protection and relocation of the unmarks in Britain and secretly welcomed it. It was ever so taxing to organize a clean up crew for some politician's son or daughter, and sadly sometimes even the politicians. Castin helped to eliminate more than 68% of his work load in that department and saved him over an hour of paperwork a day. He was very grateful towards him in that area but was losing some respect for the man if he thought he could lie to him. Everyone knew him to be a person to never trifle with and regards to that Castin was indeed about to try to lie to the devil. "You think to lie to me but I warn you now that it is a grave mistake to think one can," he spoke with a deadly undertone to his meaning and continued, "or that you could ever attempt to lie, so do not insult me with your ignorance. I am fully aware of her "situation" and I have been aware for some time so be assured I do not wish her harm." A small smile graced his lips but held no emotion to it and almost seemed programmed as he spoke his next sentence. "On the contrary I wish to increase her security seeing as you have relaxed yours, for beneficial reasons... Of course." Mycroft almost let a little eagerness get to him when he saw Castin's hand slowly inch to his phone. Instead he elegantly tapped his umbrella against the floor to show his impatience with his continued silence. As pleasant as it was for him to watch a person squirm, he did have other matters to attend to. Mycroft's gloved hand reached into his breast pocket and when he gained the man's full attention once again, produced his own cell phone and with a uncharacteristic smirk simply provided, "Dial two."

When Molly's finally calmed herself to think rationally the man restraining her had already moved her from the kitchen into her living room. She could telling her captive was male by his height and the well built form her back was pressed up against. He didn't seem to want to cause her harm at the moment but that could change in the matter of seconds so she readily studied her options. With a test of her limbs she found that he successfully restrained her arms by positioning his elbows directly over hers pinning hers back before his hands touch over their current occupation. Her eyes eagerly scanned the room for anything within reach that she could us to single for help. She could feel a slight rumble in his chest when a gasp tried to escape her. She had not realized until her eyes moved around the room but her captive had been very meticulous about her capture. All her furniture was moved far away from the center of the room where they stood and she could only surmise that he had accomplished this when she was in the shower. Fear taking over once more she started to struggle against his strong hold but was pointless against his hold and then his... Cell phone rang? Her struggling renewed with the sound of a cell phone unlocking and an absent hand around her neck. Abruptly she was shoved up against her wall with both hands behind her back, and a cell phone pressed against her ear. "Hello?" came an anxious voice over the other end that sound fairly familiar,though she couldn't place where with her body under so much stress. "Molly," came the voice again, "What was that noise? Are you well?" The voice almost sounded angelic and relaxed her immediately coaxing a nod from her even though she knew he could not see her. When she felt her captor remove his hand from her mouth, she suppressed a shudder at the feel of the tips of his fingers run along her lips before relocating to her neck still effectively pinning her arms back while shifting. "Yes sir, I am well. A little occupied at the moment with a gentlemen but I assure you I am well." Her reply came calmly, even to the surprise of her. She wanted to scream but for some reason she could sense that whoever this man was, he was not there to harm her, maybe the opposite. And whoever was on the other end of the phone was assuring her she would be ok somehow. With another assuring I am well to the stranger on the phone she plummeted to the ground with a loud thud as she was released. When she turned to glance at her captor he was already gone.

When Mycroft saw Caston's nod of understanding as a sign to end the phone call he did just that. With a snap of his wrist it was from his ear and back into his breast pocket. "Caston I assure you once again that I do not plan to harm her. She is proving to be a very critical piece in a long run and would be silly of me to sacrifice a queen, would it not?" When Mycroft finished his last round a bout on the subject he turned to make his way out of the room when Caston had to ruin his victory exit. "Incase you have forgotten Mycroft... That move has been performed and proven to be the greatest sacrifice in a chess game. If it comes down to winning a game, I doubt you will have to assure me she is well but alive." Annoyed but ignoring his outburst Myroft made a slow retreat to his car while dialing 2 once more. Sherlock didn't even look down at his phone before answering to address his brother, "Hello dear brother, I gather your end went accordingly? Surprised you managed to stay on schedule with how much you had to walk. I do warn you constantly brother that cake is not and never will be your friend." Sherlock smirked when he heard the slight bitterness in his brothers tone when he replied, "Yes brother it went well and I see you managed your end. Pleasantries aside, what do you think? Interesting no?" Asked Mycroft as he lowered himself into his car, "She seems different from normal unmarks like Castin." When Sherlock paused to reply Mycroft switched to offense. "Of course per agreement in exchange for your help in this endeavor, I will contact St. Bart's to allow unrestricted access."

***** Ok so getting my computer up now but I finished this chapter on my Ipad for a check you could say. I only started this story cause it was an idea that was literally keeping me up and as you can tell I have never written before but had to get this out of my head. This will not be a 20 chapter story and will probably get longer than 40 or more. I have only introduced simple plot lines that have brought Sherlock to "meet" Molly. An introduction of sorts and I have received positive feedback and appreciate them all, but I need to know if I am headed in the right direction to keep an audience. Let me know. Thanks!********


	8. Chapter 8

Molly exited her doctors office with enough malevolent fury to frighten every human within the hearing rang of her unrefined language. She blindly relied on the so called U.U.C., or the underground unmarked channels, to guide her, but when they abruptly casted her out she was condemned. Her rage flowed like blood from a severed stitch, penetrating every crevasse of her being and polluting her soul. She reasoned at the time they needed precautions but she had not expected the pent house blood work 101 from the hospital after her call to the authorities of her break in. The lab stripped her down to bone when she returned to work the next day, even though she explained nothing happened. She was cleared and when any normal person would be praising every God, she was cursing them. They stripped her! For any marked human it would be a causal embarrassment for them to expose all flesh, but for her it was predetermined death sentence. This day or latter it was well established in her mind that her unmarked status would be uncovered in due time. She had pulled it off so brilliantly that hat she predicted she would achieve another 5 years before someone questioned her marital status. She glimpsed down at her hands for the briefest of moments, watching her palms catch the slow free falling snow she envied so much in that simple moment. They traveled with a peaceful ease along with the flow of the calm breeze. The dark tormented part of you psyche was only appeased that when or if they where subject to fall in her welcoming hands, they would never join the other happy free falling flacks. No they would fall victim to the heat her body produced automatically for survival and no matter how cold she felt, it would not be cold enough to stop this beautiful piece of earth's art from melting and being absorbed into body. These peaceful whimsical snow flacks would find that her outer calm facade was that., a facade. Within her body her blood crashed like waves against a mountainside, slamming along the walls of each artery, raising her blood pressure to an all new high. With a frustrated sigh she ran her cold finger tips along each stress point on her skull and relented that the headache that plagued her would only be calmed by the pills in her medicine cabinet.

Molly for all her insight to death could never fathom the life of humans, even when she was subjected to an autopsy to a so called "normal" human death. Each organ carried it's own weight to the bodies inevitable down fall, unless a catalyst was presented into the body. Organ failures were like skipping in the park to her. She would often muse herself with the fact that if God condemned those that killed themselves as suicide, how did killing oneself with alcohol or cigarettes any different? A person that slit a wrist or hung themselves knew that when their blood flew freely, or gasped their last breath it was done. How did a man not fall to the same crime after drinking himself into liver failure, or a person to die from lung cancer. Ever bottle and package have a risk to use but they continue to use and some die from it, so while weighing the liver of an apparent alcoholic, she pondered where he was in the cosmos. But at that moment Molly felt so insignificant she believed that no one would turn their heads to her death. Maybe if she put up a theatrical theme she could make the papers. With enough weight on her shoulders to descend to every layer of hell with each step, she pushed herself to make it home.

When Molly checked in the next day she expected everything to go wrong. Her heart was leaping from her chest, headed to hypertension! She was not expecting a sign off of medical records to every unnatural chart the hospital retrieved asking for her opinion. Charts to be passed on to her, not even the unnatural. They should be turning away from her! She should not be receiving them but she had more? Bracing her cheek with a cool beverage, she sighed before setting off to work,. To weigh, measure, and determine if an organ could be a natural cause or if! .. Molly almost fell backwards from her chair when she noticed a male seating off to the side of her. At the moment she noticed him, she chocked. It was him, HIM! The angel of death seating above a microscope, glaring down the instrument of his choice. And yet she could not chock out a 'get out'.


	9. Chapter 9

When Sherlock was graced with the ever pleasant end tone, indicating a closed conversation, he felt a deep impulse to text his brother to aggravate him further on the subject of his win. The end of the call was a fashioned Mycroft I lose this time which added a skip to Sherlock's step. The victories obtained between the riffling brothers in his favor were few and he would tip any knowledge in his favor to win. As Sherlock rounded the corner he realized that even though he did except the mission and fulfilled it, he on one simple technicality lost.

Sherlock agreed to prove Mycroft wrong on the premise that he, Sherlock, could prove an unmarked was no more interesting than any other normal run of the mill human. Even though he already had the privilege of meeting her himself, and placing her in the interesting cabinet of unorganized back files, he would not easily bow his head in submission. So he foolishly ignored all previous knowledge of the female, rising to the challenge in Mycroft's voice of superiority, only now to feel like a pup being popped on the nose for being so blind. Stopping so abruptly in his walk of victory he almost snarled when he noticed a CCTV watching him. Victory had been snatched from him so quickly his spirit raged inside from the failure to even sample it and that infuriated him to no end. Sherlock wondered into a carefully calculated and manipulated steel trap, but his interests was once again peeked.

If Mycroft put so much thought into this female to bother even manipulating him, than he sought more than her medical knowledge. Sherlock decided to leave that disturbing thought process and store it for later access after he had more information to add to the variables presented to him. In the time that it took him to come to the conclusion that he needed to observe the new conundrum further, another unwanted being was about to collide into him due to his absent mind. His mind continued working as his instincts took over his body, commanding him to drift along the others along the walk way and contemplate further on the matter of one unmarked that dared to stand in a single room with marked and hold a position to inform them of how their dear ones passed away. It was like a leper holding a position to inform others that she was above them. She did not shy from the power she held, but did not grasp it to manipulate it. Sherlock perceived at that precise turn of another corner that she was worth investigating and preceded to text a simple 'stalemate', to his brother's ever watchful eye.

-...-

Mycroft almost sighed in pleasure when the aggravation of the simple, ordinary, but extremely mind consuming female was lifted off his already pressured shoulders. He had multiple intelligence agencies reporting daily that an attack was imminent on foreign soil, soil his country had sworn to protect after alliances where made. He could not fold now under his brothers commanding nature for approval. Mycroft was the alpha of his chosen and Sherlock chose not to fall under his command, but to rise against. He as an alpha could not accept him unless he presumed the beta way. Sherlock would never fold, so once again he allowed his younger Alpha brother to tramp around England, controlling the environment to his ability and gaining the control of the police without his knowledge. After he completed the call to his brother he enjoyed watching how his brother relived the conversation and was demolished slowly by the realization that he failed once again to win but prolong the chess mate between them. When he received a simple text of "stalemate" he reclined in his chair to gain a simple since of normalcy before his next meeting. After of course the mind consuming e-mails of confirmation that she up to the task of being the governments consulting pathologist.

Mycroft at one point questioned his standing on the matter until Sherlcock confirmed that she was indeed interesting simply by watching their second exchange. He watched his brother struggle with the little morality he had left before he broke into her apartment, even questioned himself on that one act he could never be blamed for. His brother completed the task before he grasped the reality that it was a test sent by him but failed to acknowledge why. At the standing he had the upper hand of winning their game, but would take no chances losing.

-...-

I'm sorry. Holidays and hours at work going crazy. Needed to update because I wanted to reassure some I was still writing. My beta should be coming to work for me soon as well.


	10. Chapter 10

Sherlock glided across the room before he gracefully positioned himself in front of his presumed to be favorite telescope. He watched her work for newly 5 hours before she left the room, always hidden from her sight, as she was swamped by new medical files. Even though she was clearly confused at the recent turn of events, she worked diligently. He studied her backtrack and found no fault with past files, and was even impressed with some. Whoever this Molly was she did not take easy roads and to the time to study ever facet presented to her before coming to any conclusions.

Even though she managed to miss a few details many would, unlike him, she still impressed him with her thoroughness and accuracy. It was almost pleasant to watch her work her way around a corpse, like watching a painter create a new masterpiece. The way her hands gracefully made each incision like a painter guiding a brush stroke to artfully display a corpses canvas. She further displayed her gift as a sculpture when she displayed each organ to herself for study, or how she stitched the chest together once more to display the full complete human left behind. The art was completed only to be consumed by the medical records, but the deliberated fluid motion of Molly's hands where graceful to one fault, her own self.

She froze up when others where in the room. He could not claim that this was the first day of the mission to require more insight on the mystery of the unmarked Molly Hooper file. He began his entail on her from a certain distant day when she stunned him with the knowledge he should have known from the beginning. Mycroft had sent him, however reluctant, and his arrogance lead him to believe he was needed. Only to found out the mission was futile, even if that information was working in his favor. The questioned female was returning with the cool beverage she sought for comfort and nearly collapsed in a chair near him when she noticed him. It was fun at first to stretch and pressure her spirit under his own but no matter what Sherlock did in his hiding to view her, nothing was pressured. At one point he was nearly positioned right at her left and still he watched her complete her work. It was nearly comforting that he found a place to complete his work.

With an unsatisfied sigh Sherlock glanced from his microscope presenting him with the chemical reaction he expected, to the female that looked more like a gasping goldfish than he could ever imagine. As his brows started to collide together to present a deep displeasure for her behavior her voice screeched with the demanding tone, "Why?!"

When Molly fully grasped that she was once again starring at the angelic creature that graced her lab she stumbled on the words 'get out' but managed to scream out "Why?" Freezing once more at the simple term she used to define the implications of her words, all she could do was apologize. Molly did not want to throw him out but wanted an explanation for his reason for return? She had no power to keep him here, but somehow he had the right to be here? Molly needed to ask why was he here, not a simple why. Once more she cursed under her breath before returning to the male asking, "Why are you here?"

When Sherlock saw her struggle after asking why as if it was almost another game, he was confused. Why ask why? Then before he could express his confusion he saw clear resolution in her eyes, he had no intentions to speak. When he was greeted with, 'why are you here?', a sick pleasure traveled up his spine as he graced her with an unpleasant smile. As he witnessed her body crumble a little more under his expression alone, he whispered, "Because I can be."

-...-

i'm sick and have work. I had ever intention to merge the last two chapters sorry. night


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